With the Imperial-knight impostors gone, the Warrior Captain and his men worked alongside the villagers to bury the dead—both as apology and restitution.
They carried bodies, dug graves, set simple markers.
The villagers, however, initially treated the soldiers coldly—after all, these were the men who pointed swords at the "goddess" they revered.
So the villagers lectured them—at length—about how magnificent "Lady Albedo" was.
Her inhuman strength.
Her boundless compassion.
Her divine beauty and kindness.
The soldiers, assailed by these testimonies, shriveled under guilt. They later formed a line and apologized to Momonga personally.
She simply smiled and forgave them without hesitation.
"I am not offended. You were only doing your duty."
The soldiers turned red as beet juice.
The villagers' repeated phrase—Lady Albedo is a goddess—suddenly made perfect sense.
Of course they would fall for her.
Anyone would.
(…Though in reality, the 'goddess' was just a demon with no real interest in them.)
Still, the gap between her true nature and her outward appearance was so vast it made the soldiers dizzy. Momonga's default smile alone was hypnotic.
Even Gazef, normally the pinnacle of discipline, found his men hopelessly enamored.
"They're usually dependable," he muttered apologetically.
"I don't mind. The fact that they can relax means this land is peaceful—for now."
Her profile glowed under the setting sun. Gazef found himself enchanted despite himself.
Before he could speak further, a soldier rushed in.
"Captain! Multiple figures approaching the village! Surrounding us from all sides!"
Momonga and Gazef exchanged a look—and nodded.
Trouble had come.